


Bad Prose Blues

by fabflyingfox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Airport wankery, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Poetry, Holidays, M/M, Memes, Winter, fuck airports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabflyingfox/pseuds/fabflyingfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He isn’t going to call, is he, Kindaichi?” Yahaba Shigeru worried at his lip as he stared at his lockscreen. How long ago was the picture taken on it? If Yahaba closed his eyes, he could see the image burned into his eyelids: a tall slender man grinning and ruffling Yahaba’s hair as he winced and pretended to hate every second of it.</p>
<p>He loved every second of it. And that love was burning holes into his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Prose Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kongniverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kongniverse/gifts).



> Hello Clarissa!
> 
> I was semi-inspired to write this for you from a mix of feelings from P.S. I Love You and pulled a little bit of personal dread from traveling via air to create this story, something I know we both relate to. 
> 
> I don't know if you can guess who wrote this for you, but I hope you love it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I tried to make sure there was enough humor to counterbalance the despair, which I'm not very good at articulating very well,,,,
> 
> Bad poet Hanamaki lives.

“He isn’t going to call, is he, Kindaichi?” Yahaba Shigeru worried at his lip as he stared at his lock screen. How long ago was the picture taken on it? If Yahaba closed his eyes, he could see the image burned into his eyelids: a tall slender man grinning and ruffling Yahaba’s hair as he winced and pretended to hate every second of it.

He loved every second of it. And that love was burning holes into his heart.

Kindaichi watched his friend as his chest shook from the rise and fall of his breath. It wasn’t easy watching him like this, and Kindaichi never really had the words to say on afternoons like this, especially as the world grew colder around them but there was no solace in the warmth of Yahaba’s home.

Kindaichi’s lips quirked as he thought frantically for something to placate the welling of tears in the corners of Yahaba’s eyes. “Give him time, Yahaba-san, he’s only been gone close to, what, two years?” Kindaichi offered, and Yahaba looked up at him from his couch with a mixture of anguish and shock.

“TWO.”

“YEARS.”

That was a mistake.

“….Oh right, fuck…” Kindaichi wilted in the wake of his mistake and sat down with Yahaba, pulling him into his arms to hold him as Yahaba started shaking out violent sobs.

 

_When will I see you again?_

**_\- A Few Weeks Earlier –_ **

_It’s you_

_It’s always been you_

_Why’d I have to run with my shoelaces untied_

_Trying to find what I need when I thirst for you?_

 

“ERUGH,” Hanamaki crumpled up the paper he had been writing on and threw it toward his trashcan in the duplex study. Various papers littered this room as Hanamaki wrote on a daily basis, trying to get the words out of him that have been stuck in his throat and refused to let him say out loud.

It frustrated him. He came with Matsukawa for university abroad for the opportunity to become a better prose writer, to find more inspiration and expand the imagery of the prose he wanted to write.

But something felt missing.

Hanamaki shook his head and slapped his cheeks before taking his pen back to his paper to try again.

 

_Hey_ _cream puff_

_Sitting alone on the bakery shelf_

_So luscious and pure_

_But so sinful to touch_

_What’s it like in that glass case anyways?_

 

“ARGH that’s not right either,” he crumbled up the paper and threw it behind him, bouncing the crumpled paper off the wall right above a short bookshelf with a picture of him and Yahaba at his graduation. Both were teary eyed, but smiling, as Hanamaki placed his second button into Yahaba’s hand and curled it over in an out of character moment of seriousness on Hanamaki’s part.

 

_It’s what in your pocket?_

_Is it your hand?_

_Is it mine?_

_Of course it’s not goddammit_

 

Hanamaki scribbles out the last two lines viciously from the paper before letting out an anguished yell and folding his arms on the table and dropping his face into them.

“Boy Howdy these suck, why did we both come overseas to study abroad if your prose was just going to get worse. What if you likened Yahaba to something more appealing like that girl that bakes a cake to Snoop Dogg or something...”

Hanamaki looked straight ahead above his folded arms like a man contemplating seventeen different ways to get away with murder. He threw a large crumpling of paper at Matsukawa, hitting him square into the chest as he chewed on the last remnant of a leftover hamburger steak.

“Oh no! Dead tattooed tree remnants! My weakness! I’m done for now!” Matsukawa fell unceremoniously to the ground and feigned his death.  Hanamaki stifled a laugh despite his annoyance.

“But hey, have you considered actually calling Yahaba lately?”

“Funny, for someone that is so concerned over my love life, why don’t I ever hear you talking about Kunimi-chan these days?”

“Kunimi asks how I’m doing just as much as you win arm wrestling competitions with Hajime,” Matsukawa sighed and slumped his shoulders.

Hanamaki regretted bringing it up.

“Issei, I’m sor-“

“But the look he gives me when I go visit is enough reassurance as I’d ever need,” Matsukawa pointed a finger straight into Hanamaki’s face and stared deep into his soul, “why haven’t you gone to visit CreamPuff?”

“I, uh, because that’s…”

“Have you even gone to visit lover boy at all? Takahiro, please.”

“HEY. I’vE BEEN BUSY, OKAY?”

“You’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to perfect your confession when you and I both know sappy isn’t your thing. Takahiro, you keep wasting your time, and Yahaba-chan is going to move on to someone else…”

“No.”

“…And you’re going to have to live with seeing him smiling at someone else the way you want him to smile at you.”

“Stop.”

“This isn’t some Disney fairy tale bullshit Takahiro this is reality people don’t wait watching the horizon for their sailors to come back home from sea anymore.”

“…why are we friends again?”

“Because we both have weaknesses for our kouhai now are you going to come with me over the holidays so we can both get what we want this winter or what?”

“Can we at least surprise him?”

“You’re hopeless but okay.”

 

\--

 

Yahaba tucked his chin into his knees as he watched people cross the sidewalk under his window. Soft snow lined the street as couples and friends hurried in the chill and Yahaba felt a low twinge of jealousy at the way many of them huddled together as they walked.

For a moment he thought he could feel a light brush against his arm and instinctively went to bat it away, only to realize his sweater’s sleeve had fallen down his forearm.

_Even you betray me, huh._

Winter used to mean a lot to Yahaba, days filled with studies that lead to volleyball practices that ran past sundown, watching everyone part ways for winter break, feeling his collar pull back and the freezing cold sensation of melting snow fall down his back when he remembered he wasn't standing alone.

And then whining to his senpai about his immaturity before returning the favor.

His phone lit up and Yahaba's fingers fumbled as he gripped for it, the phone rising in the air before he finally caught it steadily enough to answer the call.

"H-hello?" Yahaba stammered out, mind racing as he listened for what voice would answer him over the receiver.

He tried to swallow his disappointment when he was answered by a gruff 

"Hey."

"Iwaizumi-san? How are you?" Yahaba rustled in his seat, almost instinctively, to attention. Even after graduation and having the team turned over to him as captain, Yahaba still fell into reverent subordination when addressed by him.

"Doing all right, all things considered," Iwaizumi paused and Yahaba could sense the apprehension in his silence.

He knew. They all knew. It wasn't easy bringing it up.

"It's okay, Iwaizumi-san, I'm doing fine," Yahaba lied in such a way even he almost believed it.

"Iwa-chan tell Yahaba he doesn't have to lie over the phone," Oikawa's voice faintly danced through the receiver. Yahaba could hear a loud smack and some unkind words faintly in the background. His lips curled into a small smile despite himself.

"Sorry about that," Iwaizumi paused again, "Anyways, this might cheer you up. We got a call from Matsukawa the other day about him coming home again this winter break..."

"That isn't anything knew, Iwaizumi-san, he always calls-" his chest instantly tightened at the sheer jealousy he had for Kunimi in that moment.

"...Right but he insisted you come along this time to pick him up," Iwaizumi cut in.

"Why?"

"Who knows I don't own him."

"IWA-CHAN CAN I PLEASE HAVE THE PHONE?"

Iwaizumi sighed with the conviction of a man that goes into work every day with the urge to murder and comes home with a clean criminal track record.

"YO HOO, YAHABA-CHAN~!" Oikawa sang clearly through the phone.

"Oikawa-san, hello," Yahaba responded softly.

"Oh, cheer up, Yahaba-san, will you? Will you come with us? It's been a really really long time since we last got dinner as a group-" Oikawa's tone changed from playful to solemn, "We miss you."

Yahaba felt his face flush warm with a mixture of regret and embarrassment. He hadn't spent time with many of his old teammates since Hanamaki left for college, aside from Watari, Kindaich, and Kunimi. Even then, he took additional measures to avoid Kunimi outside of volleyball practice in his final year.

There was a chance he'd have to spend the evening watching Matsukawa flirt with Kunimi with the lure of dry puns and terrible memes. There was a chance he wouldn't be able to hide the jealousy as he sat at the table, but the prospect of being there with his other senpai, no, friends, and knowing he would at least have one sympathetic pair of eyes watching out for his well-being...

Yahaba sighed into the receiver and stared ahead.

“Why not?”

 

**\--**

 

Snowflakes glistened as they descended from the heavens, no single one matching the other in size, style, or rhythm as they silently piled on top of every surface surrounding Yahaba, stepping one foot in front of the other. 

_A pair of snowflakes, dancing slowly, carried only by the light gusts of waning wind, intertwined and frosted together before settling on his nose, melting wet onto the bridge of it as Yahaba let a ghosting breath float into the open air._

_"It's almost like you're an ice dragon on days like this," Hanamaki grinned, breathing out with his mouth wide and standing in a wider warrior stance. Yahaba covered his mouth with his mittened left hand, his right hand clutching the sleeve of his ridiculous boyfriend._

_"You're such a dork," Yahaba giggled out and Hanamaki beamed at him._

_"And that makes you a dork-lover," Hanamaki wiggled his eyebrows._

_"Please," Yahaba rolled his eyes but the smile never left his face._

_"Oh, my beautiful dork-lover, how could I ever be your better half? Seems impossible and yet I bet you still admire me, from my brains to my calf," Hanamaki mused, tracing imaginary letters in the air with his finger._

_"Please don't ever become a famous poet," Yahaba leaned on Hanamaki's arm as they walked in the snow._

_A cold gust of wind blew passed and a shiver coarsed through Yahaba. Hanamaki paused for a moment, glancing down at Yahaba with an affectionate smile as he began to unwind his scarf from around his neck._

_"What are you-" Yahaba started when he felt a brush of a hand against his cheek as Hanamaki wound the end of his scarf around Yahaba's neck, then the other end around his own. His cheeks flushed and deepened in shades of red as he felt a small peck on his cheek._

_Times like this were a blessing to Yahaba. Hanamaki could be a dork, a colossal dork, but there were moments when the two of them were alone that Yahaba was able to share in Hanamaki's more reserved state. Times when Hanamaki was gentle and kind and sincere, letting out his more romantic side more than his terrible poetry ever conveyed._

_Yahaba snuggled into Hanamaki's arm more as they nestled together at a park bench facing a frozen pond._

_Hanamaki kissed the top of Yahaba's head, "Just as fluffy, buuuuuuut definitely doesn't taste like a creampuff."_

_Yahaba took off a mitt and tickled Hanamaki's rib cage, causing him to squirm._

_"All right, all right! Mercy! Uncle! Whatever I'm supposed to yell in surrender!" Hanamaki wailed after a fit of laughter and Yahaba relinquished, his face falling a little._

_“Are you really serious about going overseas for university with Matsukawa-senpai?”_

_Hanamaki gulped as Yahaba’s eyebrows furrowed._

_He offered a small smile, “Are you worried I won’t come back?”_

_“Well…” Yahaba kicked his feet and Hanamaki let out a heh._

_“Shigeru,” Hanamaki turned his face and kissed Yahaba’s temple, “You’ll be worth every moment I spend away when I come back. And me coming back for you? That’s a promise.”_

Yahaba’s eyes welled up in tears as the snowflakes freckled his face the rest of the walk to the bus station. A rub of his sleeve before he turned the corner, and he’s wearing a practiced smile as he greets Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Kunimi at the station.

Yahaba refused to look Kunimi in the eye, not because Kunimi could see right through him, but because he wanted to believe his cheer is real in that moment.

 

**\--**

 

“Why did we decide to come home during winter break, when, you know, SNOWSTORMS HAPPEN?” Hanamaki hit his head against the wall as Matsukawa stared at their now cancelled boarding passes. The two found themselves stranded in Amsterdam-Schihol Airport on their way to their connecting flights to Fukuoka, then Sendai in Miyagi.

“I’m more surprised we have to fly on standby now than anything.” Matsukawa sighed, “Cheer up, Takahiro, this isn’t a big deal. Happens all the time.”

"Gee, and you couldn't tell me that until after I dropped 2300 pounds on this trip? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YEN THAT IS ISSEI?" Hanamaki gripped his fingers through his short, scruffy locks, staring daggers at possibly the most laid back person he had the frustration of living with.

Matsukawa simply sighed with a half-lidded grin plastered across his face, "I'm a doctor not a mathematician."

"Dr. McCoy I dunno how to tell you this but these aren't starships we literally need to get home."

A crackling over the intercom interrupted the two as an announcement waded through the airport. 

"Times like these make me wish I understood German," Matsukawa mumbled.

"I'm pretty sure that's not German," Hanamaki tilted his head.

"It's Dutch you idiots," a foreign traveler huffed out in Japanese as he passed by.

"Oh." The boys said in unison as the message began again, in English.

 

_[Attention standby travelers heading to Fukuoka Airport: we have seats left on flight 869, departing in twenty minutes out of gate 29B. Please make your way to the boarding dock. This is a first come, first serve opportunity.]_

 

Hanamaki looked into Matsukawa's deadpan gaze, "Issei, we need to run. _NOW._ "

Matsukawa nodded and the two made a mad sprint with their carry-on luggage toward the gate, weaving in and out of other travelers and only catching glimpses of obscene hand gestures in their general direction.

The attendant at gate 29B looked up with wide eyes as the two college boys rushed directly to her podium.

"WE'RE HERE FOR THE FLIGHT TO FUKUOKA," Hanamaki panted as Matsukawa whipped out both of their passports.

"I'm terribly sorry," the flight attendant looked at both of them nervously, "But we've only got one seat left on this flight."

Matsukawa turned to look at Hanamaki as he paled, and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes.

“….Takahiro.”

“Issei, just go. They’re all expecting you anyways,” Hanamaki shook his head and grinned at his friend, but there was no weight to it.

“Takahi-“

“JUST GO,” Hanamaki pushed Matsukawa toward the gate and sat back down, fighting the urge to scream at him and make an even bigger scene in the airport.

Matsukawa turned back to the attendant and followed her onto the ramp, glancing one last time over his shoulder, wishing there was another way.

Another crinkle over the intercom, and a new message began wafting over the airport as flight 869 flew off.

 

_[Attention travelers: We regret to inform you that all flights are cancelled until further notice.]_

 

**\--**

 

"How have studies been treating you this semester, Kunimi-chan?" Oikawa purred in his bus seat next to Yahaba, smiling across from him as Iwaizumi sat in the aisle seat next to him.

Kunimi shrugged, "Get a lot of sleep in physics."

"That's a waste, Kunimi-chan, you're got more potential than letting it absorb in your sleep."

"You could use more sleep yourself, you know, Oikawa," Iwaizumi huffed without making eye contact, "Seeing as though you keep me up with audio clips from across the dorm."

"So rude, Iwa-chan! Not everyone can hear information once and be able to absorb it effortlessly."

"It's not effortless. I just take good enough notes while I listen."

"To be fair I'm not failing physics," Kunimi yawned.

"I don't know if that's better or worse, honestly," Yahaba whispered while staring out the bus window.

"Yahaba, you've been oddly quiet," Kunimi paused, "Are you all right?"

A stone weight latched itself in Yahaba's throat as Kunimi stared straight into him. Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked to each other before Oikawa looked back with a mixture of anticipation for what was to come and edges of concern.

Yahaba let out as steady of a breath as possible, "I'm fine."

Kunimi turned to look at Oikawa, "Should I tell him or should you."

"Tell me what?" Yahaba tilted his head and looked between Oikawa and Kunimi.

"Kunimi. Tooru." Iwaizumi warned, "Remember you promised."

"Iwa-chan, look at Yahaba-chan. Have you looked at him at all? This is painful. I don't think we're able to take letting him be like this for another second. Kunimi-chan was he this down in volleyball practices your third years as well??"

"Well he certainly wasn't Sunshine incarnate."

"Tell me what though," Yahaba mouthed again and Iwaizumi crossed his arms in resignation.

"Go ahead and tell him why he's here."

"So! Yahaba-chan we both know that Mattsun comes home every winter-" Oikawa began, "But when he was telling Iwa-chan and I able his plans for this winter break it seemed like it were a little less about the usual 'sorry guys I promised Kunimi-chan we'd meet alone at the airport and back'-"

"Yes, you've aleady told me that, Oikawa-san," Yahaba gripped the fabric on the tops of his knees, "But that doesn't explain why-"

"He's bringing someone with him. For you," Kunimi cut in.

"....Eh?"

The bus pulled up to the airport terminal at Sendai and the four boys shuffled off the bus into the cold winter air briefly before walking through the doors to wait at baggage claim.

"Makki, Yahaba-chan, Makki!" Oikawa waved his hands over his head as he walked, a bounce in his step as the others walked with him, "Makki Makki Makki is coming!"

"What are you, five, Shittykawa?" Iwaizumi slapped down one of Oikawa's arms, "Use your inside voice for a change."

Yahaba stopped walking, "Are you sure he's coming?"

"Yahaba," Iwaizumi clapped his shoulder gently, "He gave his word."

"This is one of the things Matsukawa doesn't joke about," Kunimi nodded.

"Let's go pick him up, Operation Happily Ever After!" Oikawa sang and Yahaba rolled his eyes with a smile and a small hiccupped laugh.

"Thank you guys," Yahaba spoke softly and the four found a set of chairs to sit in near baggage claim.

"I'm going to check the arrivals board," Iwaizumi thumbed behind him, met by a sleepy nod from Kunimi, leaning on Oikawa's shoulder.

"I'll come with you, Iwaizumi-san," Yahaba followed, emotions churning in his gut. He had dreaded coming out to the airport, but now the dread was swirling with feelings of hope and anticipation. With each step toward the arrivals boards, Yahaba felt the swelling in his chest at the prospects of being able to see Hanamaki's face in person again, to feel his hand on his cheek, to wraps his arms around his waist and tuck his chin into his chest,....

"This can't be right."

The arrivals board shone with various flight numbers and arrival times, many of which were still listed as "on time."

Except the Fukuoka flight Matsukawa and Hanamaki were meant to arrive on wasn't listed.

"Excuse me," Yahaba walked up to an airport attendant, "What happened to flight 707?"

"Oh," the flight attendant looked up at the board for a moment with Yahaba and Iwaizumi, "The flight got delayed due to cancellations abroad."

_Cancellations.... abroad..._ Yahaba gulped audibly.

"Let's see," the attendant leaned back over to his computer, "There looks like one flight was able to connect and new flight number is 640, scheduled to arrive in about two hours."

"Iwaizumi," Yahaba turned to him.

"We should tell the others and wait," Iwaizumi sighed and offered a small smile to Yahaba. "Don't lose hope just yet."

The two relayed the news to Oikawa and a half-asleep Kunimi, who only seemed coherent enough to hear the words "delay" and "flight changes" as he made a weak thumbs up to both.

"Kunimi-chan you're hopeless," Oikawa scoffed as he readjusted and Kunimi leaned back in his seat, head bobbed back and eyes shut peacefully. Yahaba slumped down in the seat on Oikawa's opposite side, eyes focused on his shoes as he scuffed the floor and worried at his lip.

"Hey, there, it's going to be all right," Oikawa looped an arm around Yahaba and glanced over at Iwaizumi leaning against a pillar nearby.

Yahaba only nodded and continued to sit still, as if reward for his stillness would be Hanamaki blessed to him by the universe, despite what obstacles the world of air travel could possibly throw at him. 

_He'll be here, he'll be here, he'll be here...._

 

But then he wasn't, and he could feel his blood go cold when Matsukawa finally approached them in baggage claim, alone.

 

**\--**

"UGHHHHHHHH," Hanamaki pulled his hand over his face over the eighteenth realization that, yes, his phone was now dead and also, yes, he had brought his phone charger and magnificently packed it...

..In Matsukawa's carry-on bag.

Hanamaki sighed as he pushed his phone into his bag again, as a group of carolers walked past his seat in the terminal, singing something about nuts roasting, "This is, completely unfair."

At the very least, he still had his notebook. And damned if he wasn't going to write while waiting to get back home.

_I will come home._

_To your arms again._

**\--**

Yahaba spent each day after Matsukawa arrived more and more closing inward on himself.

Each call to Hanamaki's cell phone reaching straight to voicemail, no replies to any text messages. Hanamaki wasn't necessarily the best at responding to his phone on a regular basis, but the lack of response, especially after Matsukawa confirmed Hanamaki got stuck in their connecting airport back "in Europe somewhere..."

"Yahaba, let's set your phone down, all right?" Watari walked into Yahaba's living room with a tray of soup for him, "Please, let's eat. We can stop by the airport and find out what his flight status is there tomorrow morning?"

"Mmm." Yahaba nodded but didn't move his knees down from his chin, sitting on the couch as Watari rubbed his hand and brought the spoon up to his lips.

 

**\--**

 

But every day that Watari took Yahaba to the airport that week, there was no news about Hanamaki's boarding pass, or whether he had been able to fly at all since landing in Amsterdam.

 

**\--**

 

Hanamaki groaned into his hands as he heard yet another group of carolers passing through the airport terminals. Sure, he loved the holidays, and in the past used many opportunities to annoy the hell out of his friends and family with the most outlandish and ridiculous holiday traditions he could find in lore or online.

But given his current stranded situation, well, what holiday spirit was he supposed to have.

Another crumpled paper. Another letter he began to write for Yahaba and felt tears in the corners of his eyes as he realized this one wasn’t good enough either.

 

_This isn’t quite fair, is it, Shigeru?_

_At this point I was supposed to be home with you,_

_Snuggled into your shoulder._

_I’m not sure when I’ll get there,_

_And at this point I don’t give a fuck if I don’t go back._

_You’re the only one I need now._

Hanamaki stared at his thoughts on the page, his honest feelings written without any flair or fanfare.

His honest feelings. Raw.

That was it.

“HAH! SHIT. What the fuck,” Hanamaki laughed and spooked a nearby sleeping traveler.

He continued to write as much of what was in his heart, lacking embellishment, for several hours, until the sound of carolers drowned out and an intercom beckoned him home.

 

**\--**

 

Yahaba stared at his phone, screen black as the night sky out his window. It was New Year’s Eve, and Matsukawa was flying back to Liverpool that evening. He was bitter, worn out, and his heart felt a numbness he wasn’t sure was a serious problem or just the aching of a burdened heart.

A knock on Yahaba’s door startled Watari awake from the couch, where he had nodded off after coming over to make sure Yahaba was okay. Yahaba continued to stare at his phone until Watari returned back into the room with a deadpan Kunimi.

“Yahaba, come with us to see Matsukawa off.”

“Why should I?” Yahaba muttered, looking down at his feet, “All of you got my hopes up once already.”

“Trust me,” Kunimi whispered, “I have a good feeling.”

Yahaba glanced up, “That’s incredible coming from you.”

“One more trip, Creampuff,” Matsukawa called from the hallway.

Yahaba shuffled his feet again, “I really don’t- EEP“

Watari lifted Yahaba from the couch, “Come ON, Yahaba, never give up!”

Kunimi offered a small smile before the four of them headed out of Yahaba’s home and to the bus station, Watari setting Yahaba down to walk with them once down the steps of the front of his building.

The ride to the airport, in contrast to the time before, was met with a lot of silence: Kunimi fallen asleep on Matsukawa’s shoulder, Matsukawa tapping away at his phone with one hand and petting Kunimi’s hair with the other, Yahaba staring out the window in a daze, and Watari looking around at everyone else on the bus from his aisle seat.

Naturally, Watari was the only one of the four to notice when the bus made it to Sendai Airport. The party moved themselves off the bus sluggishly, Kunimi lazily holding onto Matsukawa’s sleeve. Yahaba followed with eyes unfocused, too tired to be jealous over the amount of affect Kunimi could give Matsukawa when he was robbed from doing the same with Hanamaki this time.

_Would there even be a next time….?_

Yahaba didn’t realize he had stopped in his tracks until Watari slapped his shoulder with an apologetic smile.

Kunimi, Watari, and Yahaba escorted Matsukawa to the security area, Kunimi speaking with Matsukawa in whispers before a sudden small kiss and Matsukawa heading through the other side.

Yahaba sighed and found a seat in the terminal nearby, staring at Kunimi as he watched Matsukawa until he was no longer in sight.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom before we head out,” Watari patted Yahaba on the shoulders, “You gonna be all right?”

Yahaba nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be all right again.

 

_Not without Takahiro._

 

Yahaba tucked his chin into his knees in the terminal seat, a surge of sadness crashing over the numbness he had felt all day. His eyes felt heavy as he started to slip out of consciousness, _I really haven’t slept well lately have I?_

Yahaba’s eyes flickered closed and when he opened them, an envelope was laying on his knees.

“Huh?” Yahaba blinked, reaching for the envelope and opening it slowly. He settled his feet onto the ground and he pulled a sheet of paper out of the envelope:

 

_All this time,_

_I put up every act I could_

_To make you laugh or cry or smile_

_And it didn’t dawn on me until now_

_That of all of those, I would miss your smile the most._

_You mean the world to me,_

_More than studying abroad,_

_More than writing terrible prose_

_(This is awful isn’t it?)_

_But I’m ready to come home to you_

_Shigeru_

_It’s always been you._

_Will the real Yahaba Shigeru please look up?_

 

Small droplets of tears fell out of Yahaba’s eyes as he read the letter a second time, before noticing there was a familiar figure standing right in front of him, gazing at him affectionately, "You gonna sit there all night or do I need to cuddle you out of that seat?"

“Takahiro-“ Yahaba whispered as he jumped up and hugged Hanamaki tightly, his arms wrapping tightly as Hanamaki kissed the top of his head.

 “First of all, fuck airports, and second of all,” Hanamaki smiled warmly down at Yahaba with tears in the corners of his eyes, “I’m so sorry I’m late, Shigeru.”

 

_...._

 

_I'm home when I'm here with you._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of important info that I felt needed to be included:
> 
> Sendai Airport is in the Miyagi prefecture, and flights from Liverpool to Sendai (with layover stops in Amsterdam, then either Fukuoka/Tokyo) can cost anywhere between the American dollar equivalent of $3000-$8000 on Orbitz.
> 
> How the fuck, then, does Mattsun afford to come home every winter when flights cost so much?
> 
> Iwaizumi: I'm not answering this.
> 
> Oikawa: Well I guess Mattsun just saves well? Doesn't he have a job?
> 
> Matsukawa: There's a reason I got to study coding abroad ;)
> 
> Hanamaki: Shhhh.....
> 
> Yahaba: ....Matsukawa-senpai, that's illegal,,,,
> 
> Kunimi: [thumbs up emoji]
> 
> Iwaizumi: Why do I associate with any of you.


End file.
